are. You decide things so beforehand. Why mightn't he have been
coming up to town, for example, to see a friend, or get himself
fresh colours?"

"Oh, I said 'to consult his dentist,'" Guy answered, in the most
matter-of-fact voice on earth, suppressing a tremor, "because you
know I've had toothache off and on myself, one day with another,
for the whole last fortnight. And it's a tooth that never ached
with either of us before-this one, you see"--he lifted his lip with
his forefinger--"the second on the left after the one we've lost.
If Cyril was coming up to town at all, I'm pretty sure it'd be his
tooth he was coming up to see about. I went to Eskell about mine
myself last Wednesday."

The elder man seated himself and leaned back in his chair, with
his violin in his lap; then he surveyed his friend long and curiously.

"It must be awfully odd, Guy," he said at last, after a good hard
stare, "to lead such a queer sort of duplicate life as Cyril and
you do! Just fancy being the counterfoil to some other man's cheque!
Just fancy being bound to do, and think, and speak, and wish as he
does! Just fancy having to get a toothache, in the very same tooth
and on the very same day! Just fancy having to consult the identical
dentist that he consults simultaneously! It'd drive ME mad. Why,
it's clean rideeklous!"

Guy Waring looked up hastily from the telegraph form he was already
filling in, and answered, with some warmth--

"No, no; not quite so. It isn't like that. You mistake the situation.